


30. Antony visits Ian a few days later

by jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [30]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF, Vampire Diaries RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:22:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4554114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Writing credit: Joseph Gordon Levitt - Starlingsings</p><p>This log is from the Ian Somerhalder/Joseph Gordon Levitt storyline but involves Antony so it's being posted as part of Antony & Stephen's storyline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	30. Antony visits Ian a few days later

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for references to sexual assault and possible triggers

Their night hadn’t been overly disturbed, all things considered. Ian had had to wake Joe at one point so he could visit the bathroom but other than that, he’d not fidgeted or fussed too much. Even so, Ian wakes up in a distinctly low frame of mind. Even the promise of a wash and a shave fails to lift his mood. He has a quiet word with the nurse while Joe is in the shower, and Chad assures him the way he’s feeling is perfectly natural considering what he’d been through. It’s small comfort, however, when Ian finds himself weeping like a baby every half hour. 

Once the morning tasks of washing, food, and meds have been taken care of, Ian sends Joe out of the bedroom, expressing in no uncertain terms he wants some quiet time, that he’ll be fine watching a movie and dozing while Joe goes back to work. He lays in bed, staring at the TV, taking in nothing of what’s playing across the screen. His focus is inward as he tries to unravel his feelings. 

Though he’d protested, Joe had eventually given in and headed back to the studio, leaving Ian with the admonition to “Text me if you need anything. I mean it.” It hadn’t taken long for him to become engrossed - they’re less than sixty days from delivery after all.

Antony pauses outside the bedroom door. Joe's let him in and actually looked happy to see him but it still feels strange, being here, in their space, Antony still not really sure what Ian is to him. But he wants to make sure Ian's okay. Wants to confirm a few things for himself before he does what he plans to do. He knocks softly at the door and then peeks his head in. "Hey..."

Ian turns his head, he'd been staring out the window, his mind wandering over the events of the last few days, picking apart his own stupidity and the consequences of that. At the sight of Antony he wipes his fingers over his good eye and tries to push himself up the pillow pile a little more. 

"Hi! Come in," he urges softly. 

Antony steps inside, closing the door behind him. "How are you doing?" 

"Not too bad, all things considered," Ian nods, patting the bed beside him. "A lot better than if I hadn't had you to call, thank you," he manages a twisted smile up at Antony. "Seriously, thank you. I don't know what we would have done without you,"

"I'm just glad I could help," Antony says, taking a seat on the bed and hiking the silver bag in his hand, tissue paper sticking out from the top. "I brought you a couple things."

Ian manages to looks surprised, as much as the swellings will allow. "Gifts? Thank you," he murmurs, taking the bag, he opens it to pulls out a small stuffed teddy bear. He snorts in amusement, "A teddy bear?" he turns a smile on his friend. "From you? I love the irony," He pats Antony's knee and dives back in, to pull out a book. 'Mammoth book of Tattoos'. "Oh cool!" He runs his fingers over the cover. "Thank you." 

Antony smiles, although it takes some effort to do so. Ian looks awful, bruised and bandaged and just _worn_. "I thought you could use something to keep you busy while you're stuck in bed."

"Oh I've been busy enough today," Ian sets the book to one side and picks up the bear, he rubs it's ear. "Bawling my eyes out every half hour," he adds a little drily. "I'm told it's to be expected, what with what happened and all the drugs both legal and otherwise I've had running around my system,"

Antony reaches for Ian's free hand and gives it a squeeze. "Is there anything else I can do for you, or get you?"

"I think you've done more than enough Antony," Ian glances up to meet Antony’s gaze. 

"Doc told me they gave you the prelim findings on the rape kit," Antony says softly, but he won't push Ian for the details if he doesn't want to give them.

"Don't call it that," Ian snaps, frowning before he huffs out a breath. "Sorry...yeah, yeah he did. It seems I caught one lucky break huh?" And there's irony in his tone. "Small one, considering the amount of blood I was leaking," 

Antony nods. Penetration with something, but no semen. "How's Joe handling everything?"

Ian curls his fingers around Antony's where his friend is still holding his hand. "He's doing okay, I don't think it's entirely hit home to be honest. I think we've got that to look forward to," He gives Antony's hand a squeeze. "I've promised him I won't do that again. Ever."

"I know. He told me," Antony says, watching Ian's good eye. "Did he tell you I gave him a name? In case I wasn't around?"

"No, no he hasn't, maybe he's not ready to talk about it yet, or thinks I'm not," Ian offers, "I was hoping you and I can reaffirm our arrangement, so you're the only one on my call list," Ian's voice drops, and he sounds both needy and hopeful. 

"Yeah, of course," Antony says quickly, nodding, giving Ian's fingers another squeeze. "You know I'd rescue you in a heartbeat but honestly? I don't _ever_ want to see you like this again."

"You won't." Ian nods, his voice firm. "I owe Joe more than this, I know how close I came, a few more blows, in the wrong place and I might not have come back from this," He looks down at himself. "Lesson learned,"

Thankfully, Antony actually believes it. "Good," he says, giving Ian a smile. "I'm glad to hear you say that and mean it."

"How are you anyway? We've hardly talked since I last saw you," Ian's done talking about his fuck up for now, wants to turn the conversation to something a little more light. 

"Yeah, I know," Antony says with a soft laugh. "I met someone back in May but I wanted to tell you in person and then in person didn't happen til now."

"Oh?" Ian tips his head. "Boy someone or girl someone?" 

"Boy someone. Literally," Antony says. "Contracted and collared."

Ian blinks at that, and for a moment there’s a tiny hint of jealousy. "Wow, that's wonderful news," He squeezes Antony's hand. "Congratulations," He tries to look pleased, but he's confused at his own reaction, and after a moment he tries to put it down to how messed up his head is. 

"Thanks." There's something about Ian's reaction that doesn't quite match the words but Antony's not going to dig, not when Ian's feeling like shit. "Since we've figured out that we all belong to the same big happy club," he adds with a grin, "I can tell you his show's on the same network as yours."

"He's an actor?" Ian blurts out and that just kinda makes it worse. "Oh! Do I know him?" Which is a silly question seeing as he and Antony don't even know each other that well. "Sorry...can you tell me who he is?" he tries again and he steels himself for the reply. 

"Stephen Amell. He does _Arrow_ ," Antony replies. "He said he was on your show for a couple of episodes a few years back."

"Stephen! Yeah, he was a werewolf," Ian huffs out an amused noise. "Nice guy, didn't ping my gaydar though, he keeps that pretty low key," Ian muses. "You like your blue eyed boys then huh?" he manages to tease. 

Antony laughs. "I guess I must," he says, giving Ian's hand another squeeze. Just because. "Anyway. I made him the same kind of promise you made to Joe - that I wouldn't be fucking around outside the club, doing the shit we do, except with you. And that was before I knew we were all members, so we're doubly good now."

Antony's words, the reassurance he hadn't know he needed have Ian's eyes filling up and horrified he brings his free hand up to his face as he hiccups out a quiet sob. _Fuck, fucking stop this..._ "Sorry," he chokes out, voice thick with tears. 

"Don't be," Antony murmurs, leaning in, gently hugging Ian, mindful of all his injuries. "You've got nothing to apologize for."

Ian curls his free hand into the fabric of Antony's t-shirt, tucks his face into Antony's neck. "I do, so much..." he argues. "This is my fucking mess that I dragged you all into."

Antony shakes his head, staying right where he is. "We're all part of your life, which makes it _our_ fucking mess in the first place."

"I knew, I knew he was dangerous, and I knew I should have waited for you...but.." Ian's words stutter out. "I should have waited for you," he repeats after a moment’s pause. 

Antony leans back a little, just enough to see Ian's face. "Yeah, you should have, but we don't always do the smart thing when we're hurting," he says. "Which is why, if you ever get in that same fucking place in your head again and you can't get a hold of me, I want you to call the guy I told Joe about - Christos. He works for me and he's into the same shit and I trust him." 

Ian nods, wipes at his face with his fingers. "Yeah, yeah I promise," he glances up through wet lashes at Antony. "Why d'you make me the exception, with Stephen?" he asks around the lump in his throat, after all it's not like what they've got is particularly long standing. 

"Because I told you I'd help you and I didn't want you going to assholes like this guy," Antony says, trying to be as honest as possible. "And because I like you. A lot," he adds, still not entirely sure of his feelings. "I care what happens to you."

Ian pulls back, leaning into his pillow pile, he seeks out Antony's hand again. "I ignored it, but I knew there was something, from when I spent the night with you," he admits quietly. "But I've been so fucking messed up over figuring out what I feel for Joe, let alone you..." Ian shakes his head. "I spend years running from people, then I end up with two men in my life." 

Antony chuckles. "I wasn't running but I certainly wasn't eager to make any lasting connections," he says, knowing exactly what Ian means. "And now you and Stephen..." he grins. "I think we're both fucked," he says, eyes crinkling at their corners.

"Yeah?" And this time Ian's smile in genuine. "You a smitten kitten huh Mr Bad Ass?" Ian teases softly. "More than just collared and contracted huh?" 

_Smitten kitten._ Antony laughs. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Good, I told you you were too hot to be on your own," Ian rubs his thumb over Antony's knuckles. "When I'm better, can we have dinner? Talk about this, us, this, so we can be clear?" Ian asks, quietly. "And then maybe you'd see if Stephen would like to meet me again?"

"Sure." Antony nods. "Dinner sounds good and I'd be happy to ask Stephen." He smiles. "You want me to let you get some rest?"

"Not yet," Ian's closes reflexively on Antony's hand. "Stay a while, it's so good to see you,"

"It's good to see you too," Antony says. "We'll have to make sure we don't go as long as we did without seeing each other again. Our schedules aren't that crazy and I'm sure Joe and Stephen can spare us for a few hours here and there."

Ian's nodding before Antony's finished speaking. "Yeah, Joe will be happy for me to see you," All things considered Joe may well insist he does. "Even if it's just for beer rather than a fuck."

"Exactly," Antony agrees with a smile. 

"So tell me about Stephen, and you, I want to know, I assume you met him at the club?" Ian's still getting his head around that bit of news, and it does amuse him. 

Antony nods. "Yeah. Bar pick-up. He was new to the club. We went upstairs and scened and we really clicked so I asked him out to dinner a few nights later. The rest of it happened really fast," he says, not bothering with the details, "but he asked me to be his sir and I had this instantaneous yes reaction so we wrote up a contract and I put a collar on him."

Ian smiles, "Must be nice to be that sure about someone, about what you want," he offers. "I'm really pleased Antony, and I'm also really pleased that you kept space for me to."

"I promised you I would," Antony says, smiling back, which isn't exactly what he'd said, but it had felt like it. And after the night they spent at his place, the connection they forged there, he'd been even more determined to keep Ian in his life. "And Stephen's amazing. He's good for me. He accepts my travel, my work, he needs me but doesn't _need_ me. We really are a great match." He cocks his head to the side, watching Ian. "What about you and Joe? How are things going? He told me you asked him to move in with you. In the new place." 

"How are things?" Ian huffs out a noise that might be a laugh. "Intense, difficult, wonderful, painful," he shakes his head. "He is beautiful, smart, talented, sexy as fuck, open hearted and generous. And I've been struggling to understand why someone like that would fall in love with me. But he has. And as yet...I've not been able to reciprocate. All I know is he's in my life and I don't want him gone, I don't want to not have him around me, that would be wrong, he's... _mine_."

"Why do you think you haven't been able to reciprocate?" Antony asks. "Is it... your past? Or despite all his amazing qualities, do you think it's maybe just not there to be had with Joe?"

Ian's gaze comes up to meet Antony's. "My past has a name and his name is Kyan," he snaps tartly, before he frowns again, slumping and murmuring 'Sorry'. A moment and then he nods. "I didn't want to fall in love, I told Joe I'd met and lost my soul mate, and still, still he persisted and now we're here and I want to love him, I do, I want to give him the world Antony, but I can't give him the one thing he wants most of all."

"Okay, but here's the deal, and don't get pissed off at me," Antony says. "I just want you to think about this. What would Kyan want? Would he have wanted you to live the way you've been living or would he have wanted you to find someone else to love? If you love Joe, it doesn't mean you loved Kyan any less. It doesn't mean you've forgotten him. The... depth of your grief, the length of time you take to move forward - _none_ of that is a reflection on how much you loved Kyan. It doesn't negate him in your life. Not one bit."

There's a flare of anger, but Ian's too tired, in too much pain to hold onto it for more than a moment. "I know this, Joe and I have talked about it, and I'm already so much better than I was. But it's just that final leap of faith, that I can love someone, and that I won't ever have to go through that loss again," He rubs at his forehead, over his swollen shut eye. "I can't do it again."

Antony nods. He's not going to push things. Not with Ian feeling like he is. "You'll get there," he says instead, giving Ian's leg a squeeze this time. "As you said, you've already come a long way."

"Yeah, yeah I have," Ian agrees, managing a tired smile now. "When we're in, I'll invite you over to come see the new house, it's beautiful." 

"I'd love to see it. You built it or you're renovating?" he asks.

"I'm just getting some painting done, and having some woman fill it with the basics, my old place was tiny, even compared to here," Ian waves his hand around to indicate Joe's modest place. "I was hoping to be in by next week, but now..." he shrugs. "I'll see how I feel, plus Joe is really engrossed with his work at the moment, and he needs his studio, which is here." 

Antony nods. "Well if you need anything, or just someone to talk to, or rant to," he adds with a chuckle, "feel free to call me. I'm not back out of the country for another week so I'm just kind of bumming around." Or will be, once he finishes with Ian's attacker.

"Bumming around? Don't you have hobbies? Apart from beating up blue eyed TV actors?" There's so much he still doesn't know about Antony, and he suspects Antony probably prefers it that way. "Stephen not keeping you busy?"

Antony laughs. "Stephen's working," he says. "And I'm officially working, getting ready for the next few jobs, but my schedule's flexible." Which, for him, is bumming around.

"Clearly if you have time to pick up teddy bears and books and come visit me," Ian pushes down on the bed with one hand in an effort to shift himself, his face creased in pain. "Hate to ask, but...could you help me to the bathroom, so I don't have to disturb Joe?"

"Sure." Antony stands, leaning down to slowly help Ian to his feet. "You need me to hold it for you?" he teases. 

Ian has to lean into Antony, because he can't reach up to drop his arm around Antony's shoulders. Not with his ribs hurting like they do. He huffs out a soft laugh, "That eager to get your hands on my dick? You really have missed me huh?" And for a moment Ian lets himself enjoy the solidity of his friend, the sense of protection that he now associates with this man. 

"Damn right I missed you," Antony says with a smile, being completely honest for a moment. "You and your mouth," which sounds sexual, but isn't. He enjoys the grief Ian gives him. Grief he doesn't take from any of his crew. Well, except maybe Marcus and that's different. And the dynamic between him and Stephen? Different again. In a good way. A really good way. But still. 

"My mouth? Oh...you mean my attitude, yeah well, that's what got me in this fucking mess," Ian pauses in front of the toilet, one hand wrapped around Antony's forearm for support he reaches down and pulls his dick out, he notes with detached interest his piss is only pink now, rather than the more alarmingly darker shade from yesterday. 

"Does that mean you're going to be a reformed man after this?" Antony teases again, with a quick glance at the stream. He's fucked up his kidneys enough, on more than a few occasions, to know what he wants to see and Ian's definitely getting better. Slowly but surely.

"Hell no, if I did that I wouldn't be the ray of sunshine you and Joe both love so much," Ian retorts tartly, shaking off his dick and tucking it away. "Least ways, if I give you sass you won't try and kill me for it," he adds, his tone just a little bitter. 

"He used your mouth as an excuse," Antony says, helping Ian to the sink. "There's not a chance the fucker hasn't done this before. You just gave him the opening he was looking for."

Pausing before he flips on the water Ian looks up at Antony. "I've seen him before, he never went nuts like this, played nasty, sure, but this..." he shakes his head and his eyes cloud with unpleasant memory. "I've never felt so fucking helpless in my life, ever, and it scares the shit out of me, I thought I was going to die."

And maybe that should make Antony rethink things. Maybe this was just a one-off, maybe the asshole did just get carried away because Ian hit the wrong button. But no. You don't do this to another human being just because they pissed you off. And you especially don't do it to someone under Antony's protection. "I know," he says softly, curling a gentle arm around Ian and brushing his lips across his shoulder. "But you didn't. You're here, you're going to live, you're going to stop trying to die, and he's never going to do that to anyone again."

It takes a moment for Antony's words to filter through but when they do they have Ian jerking back from his friend. "Trying to _what_? You think that's what this is? You think I've been trying to fucking _die_?" his voice rises and his eyes widen in horror. "Fuck you!" 

"Not this time, not with this guy, or with me," Antony says, not backing down one bit. "In fact, I think since you met Joe and started seeing only me for the other, you've stopped, but before that? Before I met you? Yeah, that's exactly what I think, whether you want to admit it or not. On some level, I think you were always hoping the next fucker would be the wrong one and you'd be put out of your misery. You were too strong to kill yourself but if someone else did it...?"

If he was in any fit state, if raising his hand didn't hurt like a motherfucker, Ian would've punched Antony in the mouth for his words, the anger flares bright and hot. "Fuck you, you don't get to pass some fucking shitty judgement on me, fuck you," And by the time he's finished Ian's crying again, big painful hiccuping sobs. 

"I'm not passing any kind of fucking judgement on you," Antony grits out, resisting the urge to touch Ian, try and comfort him. "I'm telling you what I saw because I've fucking seen it before. Because I've known men, so fucking strong they've held out through weeks of torture, throw themselves in front of a fucking gun, or just give up, because they've lost the one thing, the one person, who mattered to them most. And not a one of them would have put a bullet in their own heads, but death by... fucking stranger? By just not reacting or by choosing the wrong situation..." he trails off, shaking his head. Ian's right. It's not his place. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

The last few minutes have turned utterly surreal, and Ian spares a brief thought that maybe he is hallucinating, but Antony is right there, right in his face and despite the words coming out of his mouth, Ian craves the comfort and safety of Antony's arms, in the end, his body makes the move for him, he slumps in against Antony. "I don't want to die...I don't, I don't want to die..." he murmurs, fingers clutching at the fabric of his friends shirt. 

Fuck. Antony wraps his arms around Ian and hugs him as close as he dares. "I know. I know you don't," he whispers. Not since Joe. Not since him. Not anymore.

It's some minutes later before Antony tucks Ian back up in bed, a damp wash cloth wiped over his bruised face to sooth eyes sore from tears. The crying storm has passed, leaving Ian feeling numb, he does however keep his fingers curled around Antony's hand not wanting to let go, almost as if the other man is keeping him from flying apart. He's totally confused about what he feeling, or thinking, his head a chaotic mess of conflicting emotions, but he's too damned tired to try and figure any of it out, he wants the oblivion of vodka, or pills, but even those vices are off limits right now. 

"You should try and get some sleep," Antony says softly, shifting so he's sitting beside Ian, back against the headboard. "I won't go anywhere. I'll be right here," he promises, keeping his hand where it is.

"You make me feel safe, you know that? How fucked up is that, considering I see you to beat me senseless? When you're near me? I feel protected," Ian stares down at their joined hands. "And I never knew how much I needed to feel like that."

It's one of the best things anyone's ever said to him and Antony gives Ian's hand a firm squeeze. "Hey. It's one of the things I do," he murmurs, smiling, covering a bit for how much the words affect him. "Personal security."

"Whatever," Ian waves that off, "It's just something you give off..." Ian's words are starting to slur again, tiredness and medication conspiring against him. "M'glad I have you."

"I'm glad you do too," Antony says softly, watching Ian fall asleep before he reaches for the tattoo book and settles in for a while.


End file.
